Observations:
Well, this is really more of a fact than an
observation. We learned from Peppino
that between the years of something like 1860 and 1920, 8 million Italian people immigrated to America from Italy! Often while speaking to an Italian native they
would ask us where we were from. We
would say US. They would ask where in
the US. If we said Minnesota, they would
say “Ah, okay.” If we said New Jersey,
they would say, “My brother/sister/cousin/brother’s sister’s cousin lives in
New Jersey!” That’s where all those 8
million people went!
All four of my grandparents were born in Maddaloni, a
town about ½ an hour west of Naples. Our
desire to see Maddaloni was great.
Otherwise, believe me, we would not have ventured to drive out of and
then necessarily back into Naples again.
I said town, but upon seeing it I would say Maddaloni is
more of a small city.
'Welcome to Maddaloni' sign
A couple of the main streets:
Every town we visited shared some characteristics –
bakeries boasting delectable desserts and breads in the windows, superior
produce on the sidewalks, and older men hanging around smoking, reading and
talking. Maddaloni rang supreme in this last
category.
A gentlemen's club; the guys inside are playing cards; we saw this a lot in many towns
I loved these two guys - they were babysitting
Even here, in a significantly more populated area than
Teora, we were noticed. (Maybe because
of me and my camera – ya think?)
The old towers that are featured on the welcome sign:
The train station:
And fountain:
We meandered into a church. Chris noticed that each pew had a dedication
plaque on it, and he looked at each one in the hopes of seeing a familiar family
name. No luck:
We walked into a second church, mainly because they are all so beautiful inside. This church had chairs with plaques on them:
While I
ogled at the church, Chris began searching again. Bingo!
He saw a familiar name. Santo –
my maternal grandmother’s maiden name!
That got my attention. We both
started looking, and lo and behold, we saw lots of familiar names! Who knows if these are the names of any blood
relatives, but seeing the familiar family names was thrilling.
Santo
Merola - my paternal grandmother's maiden name
Santangelo
Gazzillo - maybe changed upon arrival in America to Garzillo?
Santo
Merola
Interesting that this church had so many familiar names,
and the first church we went into had none. The two churches are only a couple of blocks from each other.
The town hall would not have been open the day we went to Maddaloni as it was the weekend. And we didn't know any ex-mayors. But Chris had another idea.
Maybe we would see some family names in the local cemetery. We found it easily enough, just outside the
city. And there, in just the small
section of this huge cemetery that we looked at, so many familiar names of people
we know and love.
Mastroianni - This is the way my father's name (and my maiden name) were spelled prior to America (like the actor, Marcello Mastroianni who starred in a movie with Sophia Loren; we are related to him, I'm told)
My maternal grandfather's name was Soletto. This could also be a revised American version of Sollitto.
Merola (there were LOTS of Merolas)
And there were LOTS of Santos
Santangelo
Francischetti
Gazzillo
Festante
DiPace
While on the outskirts of the city, we really didn’t see
much. A few farms, but not really any
houses. Not even farm houses. I wondered where my grandparents would have
lived. We drove back into Maddaloni and
found an older part of the city. It
seems likely to me that this is where they lived and worked, or from where they
set out to work in the fields.
The older section of Maddaloni:
Being in the town where my grandparents were born, where
their parents and their parents likely grew up, evoked in me an unexpected
surge of emotion. I found it both
astounding and somehow comforting to think that I was walking on streets they walked on,
and looking at sights they looked at. In
some of the faces we saw, maybe I was seeing a blood relative. I’m so thankful to have had the opportunity
to be there.
Santangelo's barber shop
Funny Picture of the Day:
On the way out, I couldn’t resist a lemon sorbetto. I mean, it was right there, and when will I
ever get it again?